I have to admit: I take a perverse pride in having foiled a bike theft. Well, to tell you the truth, I'm not as proud of having kept a stranger's bike from being stolen as I feel, even to this day, glee in recalling the expression on the would-be bike thief's face after I tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around, only to see my glowering visage. I wish I could have captured it on film, video or something.
In those days--circa 1990--there weren't nearly as many surveillance cameras as there are now. I can't say I'm happy that Big Brother Is Watching Us, but I will admit that some crimes are foiled or solved as a result of some would-be perps' fifteen seconds of fame.
This took place outside WCG offices in San Francisco. From what I've read about the company, the designer who tackled the would-be thief might have been acting out of anger and frustration brought on by the workplace environment!
Back when I was racing--and even when I wanted to stay in (or pretend that I was) in the same kind of shape I was when I was racing--one of the goals of training could be summed up in three letters: RPM.
In other words, we believed that spinning at the highest cadences possible would make us go our fastest. That meant riding, at least at first, in a lower gear and working up to higher gears. The one who could spin the highest gear would win the race.
Now, of course, nobody is going to turn cranks with a 54X11 gear (which I actually had on my road bike for a time) at the same rate as, say, a 42X15. But all of the trainers and training manuals told us that it was better to do 120 rpms on the latter (or a higher gear later in the season) than to mash the former. If nothing else, it gives you a better cardio workout and is easier on your knees.
Apparently, there are some folks who don't agree. Ever since the invention of the "safety" bicycle (two wheels of more or less equal size driven by sprockets and a chain), someone or another has tried to "improve" on circular pedaling motion. Examples of such endeavors include the oval and elliptical chainrings that seem to reappear in one form or another every generation or so. Shimano's Biopace is probably the most famous example; currently Osymetric rings have a following among some members of the peloton. There have been all sorts of other ways to make pedaling more efficient by eliminating the "dead" spots so that power is transferred all through the arc of pedaling.
Just recently, I came across something I saw in the bike magazines some years ago but never actually saw in person. It seemed like one of the most bizarre, Rube Goldberg-ian contraptions I'd ever seen on a bicycle. But, apparently, the idea has stuck around: The organization that patented it in 2007 was founded in 1998.
At the risk of offending anyone with any sense of political correctness, I will say that the idea is so high-tech and so complex (complicated?) that it could have come from one of only two countries: France or Japan.
If you chose the Land of the Rising Sun, enjoy your sake. OTEC, the company that patented and produces the SDV system, says "The direction of a motion of a pedal in its power phase is designed to coincide with the direction in which the rider can most easily apply force on the pedal while stretching his or her legs." The result is that its geometry "makes riders use larger muscles, resulting in lower cadences than expected".
That is exactly the opposite of what we were all trying to achieve all of those years! But, in looking at it in motion, I can see how it would make sense for, say, someone like a climber or, perhaps, an individual time trialist. It also seems to me that it also might be better suited to a recumbent bike, on which the rider pedals from behind, than on a diamond frame, on which the cyclist pedals from above.
I am curious enough to try an OTEC if given the opportunity. What differences, if any, would I notice in my pedal stroke or my ride?
You've probably heard, by now, about the "bathroom bill" passed in North Carolina. In essence, it says that people have to use public bathrooms in accordance with the gender indicated on their birth certificates.
Since this a blog about cycling (well, mostly), I'm not going to get into what the law means for transgenders, or people in general. I am fortunate, I guess, in that it's been a long time since I've been hassled about being in the "wrong" bathroom. One thing I wonder, though, is whether or not I need to carry a copy of my birth certificate with me if I ever have to change flights in Charlotte, or go to the Tar Heel State for any other reason. In case you're wondering: Yes, my birth certificate says I'm female.
Anyway, in fairness, I'll point out that North Carolina isn't the only jurisdiction that has such a regulation, whether in the letter of the law or in effect. The probable reason why the law has made gotten so much publicity is that the state legislature voted for it, and the governor signed it, the day after the city of Charlotte passed its own law saying that LGBT people would be protected in "public accomodations", including bathrooms.
Also, this is a Presidential election year and although North Carolina voted for Mitt Romney four years ago and for every Republican candidate since 1980--with one exception--the margins of victory have been slim. (That exception came in 2008, when Barack Obama took the state from John McCain.) Also, there are pockets of the state, such as the "Research Triangle" and much of Charlotte, where Democratic support is almost as strong as it is in most Northeastern states and coastal metropoli.
But about the bathrooms: I hope that no place where I cycle will ever pass its version of a "bathroom bill", and that no ride organizer will institute such a rule. After all, organized bike rides are among the few arenae in which the lines for the women's rooms are actually shorter than those for the men's rooms.
Now you know the real reason why I "changed" my gender! ;-)
